


your love like a blanket, keeping me warm

by starlightwalking



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Aroace Maedhros, Blankets, Forehead Kisses, Getting Together, Hand Kisses, Internalized Arophobia, M/M, Mutual Pining, Queerplatonic Relationships, Questioning, Trans Fingon, Trans Male Character, oh my god they were roommates, queerplatonic russingon, text conversations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-16 11:49:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29949543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlightwalking/pseuds/starlightwalking
Summary: Maedhros and Fingon stumble through finals week and discover their feelings together, with the help of some blankets and some brownies.
Relationships: Fingon | Findekáno & Maedhros | Maitimo, Fingon | Findekáno/Maedhros | Maitimo
Comments: 54
Kudos: 36
Collections: Anna's A-spectrum Anthology, Anna's Trans Anthology





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [for a moment we were able to be still](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29499258) by [CommanderMollyOBrien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CommanderMollyOBrien/pseuds/CommanderMollyOBrien). 



> Inspired by [an anon message](https://arofili.tumblr.com/post/643547870893588480/if-there-was-a-romcom-about-russingon-and-a-scene) I got a while back, but queerplatonic instead of romantic.  
> Featuring trans guy Finno and nonbinary/genderfluid/questioning Maedhros. (Am I copying my own damn modern AU? I’ll never tell!)  
> Additional inspiration from [_the world as we know it_](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1651942) by uhhh...me, [_All About Your Heart_](https://archiveofourown.org/series/2044087) by AdmirableMonster, and “[for a moment we were able to be still](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29499258)” by CommanderMollyOBrien.
> 
> CW: internalized arophobia, especially in chapter 1  
> Additionally, this _is_ set mid-pandemic, but ONLY for “we’re stuck inside” reasons, there’s no mention of any other pandemic-related fuckery.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maedhros gives a sleeping Fingon a blanket…but Fingon isn’t quite so oblivious as he believes.

Maedhros was not habitually a night owl, not like Fingon. But it was dead week, and he had a huge final in two days, so he’d stayed up studying later than usual. So late he was horribly embarrassed by it.

He crept to the bathroom and brushed his teeth as quietly as he could, hoping he wouldn’t disturb Fingon, who must surely be asleep by now even despite his...eclectic sleep schedule. He was all set to crawl shamefully into bed and grab a few hours before his class at 8am—but.

But. But Fingon was not in bed.

He _was_ asleep, but not in bed. He’d passed out on the couch, uncomfortable as it was, his textbook fallen onto the floor. He was curled up almost into a ball, toes twitching, and in nothing but his t-shirt and leggings he looked unbearably chilly, and even worse, unbearably adorable.

Maedhros just stared at him for a moment, overcome with a rush of fondness for his roommate and best friend. He loved Fingon, of course he did—he had for years, ever since they were teens in high school and Fingon had picked him out of the crowd and decided to drag him into the drama club for reasons he could never quite articulate.

But that love was, no matter how hard Maedhros tried, not romantic.

Now, all these years later, they’d settled into a comfortable intimacy—but a _platonic_ intimacy. Even if Maedhros loved Fingon with his entire being, it just wasn’t the kind of love that meant they would be together forever. Someday one of Fingon’s boyfriends would propose, and Fingon would say yes, and Maedhros would be his best man at the wedding and then Fingon would move on with his life and they’d meet up once a year for coffee until they’d turned into completely different people and it was too awkward and their friendship kind of just...fizzled away.

Except that Maedhros _wanted_ to be with Fingon forever. Just the thought of that inevitable future alone made him miserable. Sure, he’d have his family, but it wouldn’t be the same, and none of his brothers could ever replace Fingon.

Maedhros was almost certain he’d never loved anyone the way he loved Fingon. He loved his brothers, of course, and his parents, with an intensity that consumed him from time to time—but that was different from this...this _warmth_ that lit up his chest each time Fingon laughed or smiled or fell asleep on the couch like this.

If Maedhros wasn’t the way he was...

Well, he didn’t even know what he _would_ be. Gay? Maybe. He’d thought he was for a long time, not that he ever told anyone (aside from Fingon), but then he’d realized he was aroace and that was, mostly, that. But gender made things...weird. Not Fingon’s gender, of course; Fingon was unquestionably a man, and Maedhros would never doubt that (and he took pride in having been the first person Fingon trusted enough to confess he was trans to), but lately that was _another_ thing Maedhros had begun to question about himself.

But even putting that confusion aside, there wasn’t any point to worrying, because he _couldn’t_ love Fingon the way Fingon needed to be loved. In another world, maybe he could, but not this one, even if found himself wondering more and more often what could have been if he wasn’t...like this. If he wasn’t aroace.

Normally he was fine with what he was, it definitely made life easier in some aspects, and Fingon was the kind of wonderfully supportive best friend who had helped him figure all this out and swore he’d stick by him always...but even though Maedhros knew Fingon really meant that, he also knew that Fingon was allo. Being stuck inside all the time meant that Fingon hadn’t had a chance to find a new boyfriend since he dumped the last one a few months before quarantine, but as soon as this was all over...

Maedhros tried to be proud of his identity, he really did. He even thought he managed it, most days. Fingon got him little pride stickers of cats in the ace and aro colors that he’d put on his laptop, and he’d even managed to drag Maedhros to Pride the summer before lockdown. And Maedhros spent more time than he’d admit to anyone other than Fingon on web forums, reading about other aspec people’s questioning and coming out stories, and arguing with strangers over which of his favorite fictional characters were aro and/or ace.

But somehow that all fell away when he saw Fingon in a situation like this and felt that _ache_ in his chest where his love should be. He _did_ love Fingon, desperately, but he knew it wasn’t the _right_ kind no matter what Fingon would say if he told him. And he could never tell him, of course. If it was someone _else_ he was feeling this way about, he would, like he had when he was trying to figure out if Mairon was an exception (and look at how well _that_ had gone), but...this was about Fingon himself.

It was all so _complicated_. He was terrified of coming on to Fingon if he tried to talk about this, or of being creepy. He was terrified of maybe getting Fingon’s hopes up (because sometimes Maedhros thought Fingon maybe felt the same way as him, or at least similar-ish) and then breaking his heart when he failed to be a good...boyfriend? partner? whatever. He was terrified of trying something new and failing and ruining the friendship he had with Fingon.

(He knew that whatever happened, it wouldn’t be like it had been with Mairon, because Fingon was a good person, the best person Maedhros knew, but _still_ , if it went wrong and he lost Finno—)

Easier just not to say anything, he told himself. Easier to just let it pass. Except he’d been trying to do that for years and if anything, this strange love inside him was only getting stronger.

And now, seeing Fingon curled up on the couch, shivering slightly in the cold...he was so precious and wonderful that Maedhros wanted nothing more than to cuddle up next to him, wrap his arms around him and never let go, share their warmth and keep him close forever and ever.

But _none_ of that would be at all appropriate, so Maedhros restrained himself. He was good at that. It was probably the late hour and the lack of sleep that was doing this to him, really. He should just go to bed.

When he shuffled into his room, Maedhros saw the stack of blankets at the foot of his bed and paused. Fingon loved blankets—he had tons of them. He hated the cold, and he clearly hadn’t intended to fall asleep like he had. Maedhros could hardly leave him there to wake up all alone and shivering.

Maedhros would’ve snuck into Fingon’s room to grab his favorite blanket, but he was pretty sure it was in the laundry, so instead he tugged out the heaviest, softest one from his own stack and dragged it back over to the couch. Gently, he draped it over his sleeping roommate, noting with another burst of affectionate warmth that Fingon sighed and smiled in his sleep, breathing a little easier now, and he was so _cute_ that Maedhros couldn’t _not_ give him a goodnight kiss.

Before he could overthink and restrain the sudden impulse that seized him, Maedhros leaned down and kissed Fingon softly on the forehead. Giddy love flooded through him, and he hovered for just a moment, tempted to give in entirely and curl up next to Fingon on the couch, or carry him to his own bed and cuddle him there—

But he’d already gone much too far. Mortified, Maedhros stumbled back to his room, taking care to close the door softly, and collapsed into his bed with a soft groan.

 _What is_ wrong _with me?_ he wondered. _Is this...really_ it _, this time? Am I actually in love with him? Why can’t I just..._

But no matter the mess that was his feelings, Maedhros was exhausted, and soon he drifted off to sleep worrying, as he so often did...worrying about his feelings, about Fingon, and dipping into strange dreams of them together and doing all sorts of impossible things.

* * *

As soon as he heard Mae’s door close, Fingon rolled over and screamed silently into the scratchy couch pillow.

Maedhros had _kissed_ him. A forehead kiss, which wasn’t...he didn’t quite understand why, but even though with most other people he’d crushed on he’d wanted different kinds of kisses, with Mae—somehow this was _better_ than that, more _right_ than any other kind could be, because it was from _Maedhros_ and that was how Maedhros expressed himself. And not just that—Maedhros had given him a blanket, Maedhros _cared_ —

Well, of course he cared—he was Maedhros. He cared too much for his own good sometimes, and aside from that, they’d been best friends for years and years. But now Fingon knew he wasn’t imagining that things had slowly, slowly been shifting between them, that maybe, just _maybe_...

But Maedhros was aroace, and, well, Fingon wasn’t going to get his hopes up, not really. He would never dream of pressuring Maedhros into a relationship that wouldn’t work for him, and he didn’t want his feelings to make Mae uncomfortable.

And besides...Fingon had been wondering himself, lately, if he was really cut out for the whole romance thing. Sure, the main reason he hadn’t been dating recently was the whole lockdown situation, but even before that...it just wasn’t _working_ the way it used to. It had started to feel performative, like he wasn’t actually getting anything out of his relationships other than sex, and that wasn’t even worth all the hassle and the heartbreak.

He was already confused about himself, and then he’d started to realize he felt different about Maedhros than he used to, and, and...well, he _would_ have talked to Maedhros about his questioning process ( _again_ , it never really ended, did it?) except that Mae made everything _more_ confusing—through no fault of his own, of course.

It was just—Fingon loved Maedhros _so much_ , and it felt different than it had before, but still with the same amount of intensity, and he didn’t know _what_ had changed. He hadn’t had an honest-to-goodness _crush_ on another person in like, a year and a half? Maybe two years; he’d strung his last boyfriend out too long, which he still felt bad about but that was beside the point.

Except now he was crushing on _Maedhros_ of all people—Maedhros, his best friend, his roommate, who was _aroace_ and not interested in or capable of reciprocating his muddied feelings—and if Fingon did tell him how he felt, he risked ruining their friendship, which he would _never_ jeopardize. They were already best friends. Asking to be boyfriends was just being selfish and greedy.

Maedhros performed these acts of kindness because he was a good person, and a good friend, and he cared about Fingon in a completely nonromantic way. Except...the hesitancy, the self-consciousness, the looks Fingon sometimes caught out of the corner of his eye—all that reminded him of what he himself had been like in the beginning stages of flirtation. He even felt himself reciprocating from time to time, which...

It was all so _messy_ and _confusing_ , but none of his doubts and fears changed the nature of the warmth that flooded Fingon’s chest in that moment. He drew the blanket up to his face and took a deep breath, smelling Maedhros in the fabric. He was lost and worried, yes, but he was also so _happy_ in that moment, to know he had Mae’s love, to feel close to him even though they were in different rooms.

He let himself fall back to sleep, pretending Maedhros had stayed and snuggled up to him. He could study in the morning...both his textbook and his feelings.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fingon gives a sleeping Maedhros a blanket, and texts the only other person who might be able to help him in this situation.

Fingon was actually proud of himself for going to bed at a reasonable hour for once. Of course, it was mostly because he’d pulled an all nighter before his big exam, but now that was over and done with and he was absolutely exhausted and ready to zonk out. He even went to bed before Maedhros did, too tired to even wish his best friend goodnight, or overanalyze their interactions. And Maedhros was so focused on studying that Fingon didn’t think he’d even notice if he tried to talk; he had his own final the next day.

He passed out for a good three hours of incredibly deep sleep, but his bladder woke him at like 2:00am, so he stumbled out of bed and into the bathroom. He pissed and washed hands and was all set to collapse back into bed, when he realized that Maedhros was still up—or at least, the lights were still on.

Fingon hesitated, but slipped into the living room to check on him. Mae would run himself into the ground in high-stress circumstances like this, and Fingon cared too much about him to see that happen when he could prevent it.

It turned out that though the light was on, Maedhros was asleep in his beanbag chair, head head lolling back against the wall and his laptop screen gone dark. He was way too big for that thing, Fingon thought fondly, and he wanted nothing more than to scoop Mae up into his arms and carry him off to bed—

His own bed, Fingon realized guiltily. Not Mae’s...Fingon’s. He wanted so _badly_ —

Fuck, he was _in love_. Maybe. Well. Not that Maedhros would ever love him back; that was literally just not how he was built.

He remembered what Maedhros had done for him the night before, giving him a blanket. Fingon loved blankets: he had a favorite one, a fluffy purple thing he was careful to ensure stayed nice and soft even when he was washing it, which he’d done just this morning. It smelled like home, and it made him feel better when he was anxious.

Tonight, though, he thought Maedhros needed it more.

Fingon retrieved the blanket and tiptoed over to Maedhros. Slowly, carefully, he lifted Mae’s laptop and placed it on the table next to him, plugging it into the wall to charge. Unlike his own fretful slumber the night before, Maedhros seemed to be completely out of it; he barely even twitched. Fingon draped his blanket over Maedhros, wishing he could prop some pillows behind him too, but not wanting to wake him. This would have to do.

He hovered over Maedhros for a few moments, tempted to lean down and give him his own forehead kiss. But in the end, he chickened out and rushed back to his room, pulling out his phone and frantically texting his sister, _HELP_.

She probably wouldn’t respond until the morning, but he’d just remembered that she was also aromantic. Maybe she would have some insight as to what the fuck was going on with him and Mae...

* * *

Maedhros woke with a cramp in his leg. He stumbled out of bed—wait, no, not bed—hadn’t he fallen asleep in his beanbag chair last night? He stumbled, almost fell, caught himself, and leaned against the wall at the right angle until the pain in his calf subsided. Fuck. That was gonna ache for a day or two.

Belatedly, he realized that he’d probably knocked his laptop to the floor in his rush to get up—but...no, it was plugged in and sitting on the table next to him. He hadn’t done that, he’d have gone to bed if he’d known he was going to fall asleep, but then how...

He blinked. On the ground in a pile was a blanket—Finno’s favorite blanket. He _definitely_ hadn’t had that when he nodded off. Maedhros leaned down and picked it up reverently, wondering why Fingon would leave his blanket out overnight. He loved that thing.

Maedhros held it up to his face and breathed in the scent of the fabric. It smelled of Fingon, and that strange warmth blossomed in his chest again. Was that creepy? Or like...romantic? He really didn’t know at all.

Fingon must have done this, he realized, his mind slow from grogginess. Fingon had come out here, plugged in his laptop, and given him his favorite blanket. But why...?

Oh.

Did Fingon...?

Of course he knew that Fingon loved him. But suddenly Maedhros’ world tilted on its axis as he realized how _much_ Fingon loved him. Enough to give him his blanket. Enough to make sure he was cozy. Enough to...oh fuck, he probably knew what Maedhros had done the night before, that stupid impulsive kiss, lending him his _own_ blanket—

Maedhros wanted to run into Fingon’s room and—kiss him? He wasn’t sure. No, he didn’t want to kiss him. But he wanted to be close to him, wanted to share the blanket together, wanted to snuggle up to him and never let him go. He’d wanted that for a long time.

Sometimes he thought he had everything, living with Fingon, being Fingon’s best friend even if he was never Fingon’s boyfriend. Not that he wanted that...except maybe he did? God, it was all so _confusing_.

“Finno,” he whispered into the blanket, his eyes pricking with tears. “I love you, Finno. Please help me figure out what to do about that.”

He stood there, praying to a man who was passed out in the room next to him, for a long moment. Then a yawn overtook him. It was...he checked the clock...4:00am. And his exam was in...five hours. He needed to sleep before then, take that damn test, and then _maybe_ he would have time to worry about this possibly-requited possibly-romantic _thing_ that was tangling up his heartstrings with Fingon’s.

Maedhros thought about folding the blanket and leaving it at Finno’s door, but...no. Fingon wanted him to have it. And he wanted to have Finno close, in whatever way he could, for now.

Besides, maybe it would bring him luck.

And so Maedhros curled up in Fingon’s blanket in his own bed, wishing he was in Fingon’s, but full of a tenuous hope he’d never before known.

* * *

Maedhros stayed in his room for hours and hours. Fingon glanced nervously at his door every now and then, but he knew Mae was taking a test and wouldn’t want to be disturbed. Anxious and aimless, Fingon wandered around their apartment, making brownies (Mae’s favorite) and waiting for his sister to text him back.

Finally, at 11:36am, she did.

**Aredhel:  
** sorry bro got wasted last night

**Fingon:  
** rissi it’s tuesday

**Aredhel:  
** and I just finished my finals, give me a break. Anyway what’s your problem? Didn’t you just finish your finals too?

**Fingon:  
** I think I’m in love with my roommate?

**Aredhel:  
**........  
you sure you’re coming to the right place?  
Like if you wanted fwb I could maybe help, but I’m super aro

**Fingon:  
** so is he, that’s the problem

**Aredhel:  
** ah.

**Fingon:  
** he’s aroace and I’m in love with him

**Aredhel:  
** Wait this is Maedhros right?

**Fingon:  
** yeah. You know him

**Aredhel:  
** ok but I thought he was in love with you

**Fingon:  
** Rissi! Clearly not!

**Aredhel:  
** Jesus I guess I’m wrong then. Should know better than to assume that kind of thing i guess  
but I would’ve sworn, the way he looks at you

**Fingon:  
** this is NOT funny knock it off

**Aredhel:  
** I’m serious!

**Fingon:  
** the other night...he kissed me

**Aredhel:  
** WHAT  
LEAD WITH THAT

**Fingon:  
** on the forehead!!  
and he thought i was asleep

**Aredhel:  
** motherfucker

**Fingon:  
** don’t say that about him!

**Aredhel:  
** I meant you, idiot  
you are in deep, Fin

**Fingon:  
** I fucking know

**Aredhel:  
** wanna call n talk?  
My headache is coming back and staring at my phone’s making it worse

**Fingon:  
** I can’t he’s taking a test rn  
and what if he overhears.......

**Aredhel:  
** you’re the worst

**Fingon:  
** honestly before all this I was kind of wondering if maybe I was aro too?  
like idk if I always have Ben but  
*been  
but relationships have just not been working out for me these past couple years  
idk. Id have talked to Mae about it but...you know

**Aredhel:  
** you can talk to me  
if you are aro it’s probably some kind of aro idk about but like. You’re valid

**Fingon:  
** Thanks I think

**Aredhel:  
** hm  
I mean  
ok so this is not my style particularly, but if you think he likes you and you think you like him, and you think you’re also both aro-ish  
have you considered a qpr?

**Fingon:  
** a what

**Aredhel:  
** I thought you were more hip with queer shit than me, I’m disappointed you don’t know  
a queerplatonic relationship

**Fingon:  
** hold up i’m googling  
..........OH  
that might. Huh.  
that might be....exactly what I’ve been wanting?  
shit this is a lot to process

**Aredhel:  
** for real tho if you want to call  
take a walk outside or smth

**Fingon:  
** I know it’s always sunny where you are but it’s pouring rain here lmao  
but thanks. For real. I will call later if I need to.

**Aredhel:  
** good luck bro. Love ya

**Fingon:  
** love you too 💕

**Aredhel:  
** 💚💚💚

Fingon put down his phone and took a shaky breath. Fuck. Wow. That was...wow.

He still didn’t feel quite right calling himself aromantic? He wasn’t sure what was up with that. He’d definitely been in love before, he was pretty sure, and...he was gay, right? Well, being aro too didn’t make him _not_ gay, he supposed, but...this was all so confusing.

But he hadn’t felt like he was In Love, or even really crushing on someone, in like...two or three years. He’d had boyfriends, but it was mostly sexual, which was fine, but there wasn’t like...a spark. And even his sex drive wasn’t as intense as it used to be, now that his body had figured out what the heck to do with the hormones he was taking. He’d been single for nearly a year without much desire to do anything about it; most of his gay friends were complaining about being super horny with no real outlet during lockdown, but he just...wasn’t really bothered by it. And honestly, the beginning of all this, that’s when he’d first started wondering about Maedhros.

Not _about_ Maedhros...more like, his feelings for Maedhros. Well, a little about Mae’s feelings, too. Aredhel...she wasn’t wrong, that Mae acted different around Fingon, that he cast fond glances his way, that he was more touchy-feely with Fingon than he was with anyone else but his brothers.

But like...that was just how their friendship _worked_ , right? And Fingon knew Maedhros was aroace, so Maedhros probably just felt more comfortable expressing affection without any chance it would be interpreted romantically. The last thing Fingon wanted to do was ruin that, make him feel unsafe around him.

Which left Fingon in limbo. What did he know about this kind of thing, wanting a relationship with an aromantic person? He probably should’ve talked to Rissi before now, but..well...he hadn’t. And now...

Queerplatonic. He thought he might’ve heard the word before, but he’d never stopped to think about what it meant, let alone apply it to himself. Queerplatonic. A relationship label so nebulous and subjective and freeing that it might work for whatever it was Fingon was feeling. Not quite romantic, not quite platonic—queerplatonic.

But surely Maedhros knew about that. He was aroace. And he’d never once said anything about wanting a QPR. In fact, he’d expressed such _relief_ about not needing to be in a relationship. What if he didn’t want this kind of relationship, either? What if even with this label, he still wouldn’t want Fingon?

That would be fine. Fingon would never make him. But _still_...

Only one way to find out, Fingon knew. The thought of confessing his feelings was...a lot, especially considering he still wasn’t sure what those feelings _were_. But he was Fingon the Valiant, or so Maedhros had dubbed him in high school, and he could be brave for Mae’s sake.

Hopefully this wouldn’t make things awkward. Their friendship was too deep to ruin entirely, Fingon thought, and it wasn’t like he was coming on to Maedhros in the...“normal” was the wrong word, but what other way was he going to put it? The “romantic” way, maybe?

And Fingon felt hope, now—hope that maybe he could figure this out. That it would work out. That he could stop hiding this part of himself from Maedhros (his best friend—his _partner_ , maybe, if Maedhros agreed). That he could hold Mae when he wanted, get more forehead kisses, share blankets, make Maedhros happy too...

Fingon laughed softly as he realized—Maedhros still had his blanket. He hadn’t given it back yet. Maybe he was just too busy with his test, or hadn’t wanted to disturb Fingon last night when he’d woken up, but...deep down, Fingon knew better. Maedhros loved that Fingon cared enough to lend him his favorite blanket. Maedhros loved _Fingon_. Maybe even queerplatonically.

The timer on the oven went off, and Fingon jumped, giddy with hope and nerves. He took the brownies out, thinking of what he’d say to Maedhros, wanting to make sure it was perfect. Because Mae deserved the best.

“I love you, Maedhros,” he whispered to himself. “I just hope you love me too...the way I want you to.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conversation and a resolution.

Maedhros trudged out of his room, bleary-eyed. It was done, he’d finished that _fucking_ exam, he never had to worry about that stupid class ever again. He was _free_.

He still had Fingon’s blanket wrapped around him, a source of comfort and hope throughout the two hours he’d been staring at his computer and trying to remember what his textbook had said. He pulled the fabric closer to himself, a little giddy with relief. He smelled brownies. Hell yeah. Had Fingon made them as a celebration for finishing their finals?

Fingon was staring at his phone when Maedhros walked into the kitchen. He walked to the fridge and grabbed his water bottle, taking a long drink. When he glanced back, he saw Fingon smiling at him, something soft and fond in his eyes that made Maedhros’ heart melt.

Fuck, he was a goner.

“Hey,” he said, his voice croaking. He coughed, took another drink, then tried again. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Fingon echoed. “Your test went well?”

Maedhros shrugged. “It...went. I don’t have to worry about it anymore.”

Fingon nodded. “I made brownies,” he said, pointing to the plate where they were piled high. “For you. As a treat.”

Maedhros smiled. “Thanks,” he said. “And...thanks for...you know...the blanket. It really...made this whole thing so much better, knowing you...” He swallowed, suddenly terrified of saying something stupid. “Knowing you cared.”

“Oh, Mae.” Fingon’s eyes crinkled in another smile. “C’mere, I wanna hug you...if that's okay?”

“Of course,” Maedhros blurted out, and before he knew it Fingon was holding him, and it felt so right and good, and he wanted, he didn’t know _what_ but he _wanted_ —

“Finno,” he mumbled into his best friend’s shoulder, not wanting to let him go, not even for a brownie.

And it seemed Finno didn’t want to let him go, either. He wriggled a bit, readjusting and leading them over to the couch, but held onto Maedhros firmly, and then _fuck_ oh _god_ Maedhros was sitting his _lap_ and Finno was still hugging him and the thought he might cry or do something really stupid like _kiss_ him—

Fingon took his hands. He intertwined the fingers of his left hand between Mae’s, and the other he drew up to his mouth, kissing his palm. Maedhros felt lightheaded.

“Thank you,” Fingon whispered, his voice low and a little rough. “For...everything. For caring about my blanket, and for—for giving me _your_ blanket the other night, and kissing me goodnight, and—”

Maedhros blushed furiously. “You...were awake?”

“Mae,” Fingon said fondly, and kissed his hand again. “Yes. And I—really liked it.”

“Oh,” Maedhros said faintly. He was...still in Fingon’s lap. Fingon was holding his hands, _kissing_ them, holding _him_ , saying such sweet things, and he didn’t know what to do. “Do you want to...try it...different...?”

Fingon raised an eyebrow. “Do _you_?” he asked, a tremor in his voice, but _no_ , it couldn’t be because Fingon was never afraid.

“I—” Maedhros hesitated. This wasn’t how he’d imagined this, not that he really knew _what_ he had imagined. “I don’t...know?”

Fingon laughed a little, pulling him into another tight embrace. “I don’t know, either,” he admitted, and he sounded...relieved? “But I do know that I love you, Mae, a _lot_ , and that you make me...happy, so happy, even when you make me question things about myself that I used to take for granted. Especially then.”

Maedhros’ head spun. This was...really happening, wasn’t it? Holy shit. Fingon loved him, Fingon was saying all the right things even when Maedhros didn’t know before he said them what the right things would be, Fingon was—he was perfect. He was amazing. He was the best thing that had ever happened to Maedhros, and he had no idea how to tell him that. Fingon loved him _back_ , and that terrified him even more than the idea that he didn’t, because Maedhros didn’t know the first thing about loving someone like this, and—

“Maedhros,” Fingon said, gently pulling him out of his thoughts. “We can go slow, okay? I know this is...sudden...”

“I love you,” Maedhros blurted out. “Fingon. I love you so much it scares me because I’ve...never loved this way before, and I’m—you’re so good, I don’t want to mess it up, you deserve better, you deserve the _best_ —”

Fingon cupped his cheek, and for a moment Maedhros thought he was going to kiss him. But he didn’t, and for some reason even despite...everything...that was still a relief.

“Mae, I...I love you to,” he said softly. “But I’m...” He swallowed, trembling slightly. “You love me...romantically?”

“I don’t know,” Maedhros whispered, burying his face in Fingon’s shoulder again. “I just—love you. And I’m...I _am_ aroace, I’m pretty sure, but you’re so... _you_. And if I wasn’t aro, I _would_ love you romantically, I know I would, and I’ve...tried, but it didn’t work, except that I still love you _so much_ and it’s all just—so confusing...”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Fingon murmured, rubbing circles on his back. For all Maedhros was the larger of them, he felt safe in Fingon’s arms, in Fingon’s lap, being held. It felt like the right place for him.

“It’s not okay,” Maedhros rasped, “you deserve someone who can—love you the way you love them—and if you love me, then I should—I don’t know—”

“Maedhros!” Fingon sounded genuinely upset, and Maedhros fell backwards out of his lap, the warmth and safety torn away just like the blanket that now fell onto the ground next to him. But when he dared look up again, Fingon didn’t appear angry, just...concerned.

“Don’t say things like that,” Fingon said, softer now. “I love you as you are. I wouldn’t have you change. And honestly—I would’ve told you earlier, except this whole...feelings thing made it complicated...” He took a shaky breath. “But I’ve been thinking that I might be some sort of aro too?”

He looked absolutely terrified to say it, but this—Maedhros felt confident _here_ , at least.

“Finno,” he said, sitting up tall and meeting his best friend’s eyes seriously. “That’s—I’m really proud of you. For questioning yourself. And telling me. Thank you. You’re—” And he felt _guilty_ that this was what made his heart soar again, that he was suddenly giddy over this confession, that he’d been _wrong_ about Fingon being allo and inevitably leaving him behind, that he could have this kind of connection and companionship with his best friend in addition to what they had already, and whatever it was they were stumbling into now...but he was so _happy_ , all of a sudden, that Fingon was like him in this way. Maybe.

“You’re the best person I know, Fingon,” he finished. “And I’m...” He sniffed. “I’m so lucky to be your friend.”

“I feel the same way about you,” Fingon said softly, and the love in Maedhros’ heart threatened to burst its way out of his body.

And, well...if they were being vulnerable and coming out...

“I, um...I’ve been questioning, too?” Maedhros said, a little uncertainly. “Not to, uh, steal your thunder, but I mean...I was worried...wondering if loved you like, in a not-aro way, but also...” He took a deep breath. “I think I might be...nonbinary? Or something? I don’t know, I just...I like my name just fine, but gender neutral forms of address make me feel...good...and...neutral pronouns, and...yeah,” he finished lamely.

Fingon slid off the couch and onto the ground next to him, pulling into another hug, even fiercer than the last. “Thanks for sharing,” he whispered. “I’m proud of you, too. We should—talk about this kind of thing more.”

“Yeah,” Mae choked out through tears that threatened to ruin the moment. “But it’s...scary. And...finals. Ugh.”

“No more finals, though.” Fingon laughed softly and drew back with a kiss to his cheek. Maedhros flushed even deeper and reached out to squeeze Finno’s hand.

“No more excuses, then.” Maedhros didn’t let his hand go. “Finno, I...love you so much. And I don’t...know what kind of love it is? But it’s a lot, whatever it is.”

“Me too,” Fingon said. “Like...I’ve been in love before, romantically, I’m pretty sure. If I am aro now, I wasn’t always. But this is...different. Just as intense, but...softer? I don’t know how to describe it. But I was texting Aredhel, and she said...well, she told me about queerplatonic relationships? And I was like. _Oh_.”

“Oh,” Maedhros echoed, feeling like an idiot for forgetting that was, like, a _thing_ , and it all kind of slotted into place. Yes. Queerplatonic. That was...his love was...it was certainly queer and mostly platonic and probably platonic in a queer way, and...yeah.

“Yeah,” he said. “Um. Wow. I feel dumb now, I should have known that’s what I was...”

“Would you...want that?” Fingon asked, his eyes wide and beautiful. “With...me?”

“I’ve...never really thought about it before?” Maedhros admitted. “Like. It’s not something I was ever...seeking out. I guess in the back of my mind I thought, if it happens, it happens, but it’s not something I _need_.”

Fingon nodded, looking a little disappointed, but _no_ that wasn’t what Maedhros meant. Communication, he reminded himself, the keystone to every good relationship. And he _did_ want a relationship, if it was queerplatonic, and with Fingon.

“So I guess it wasn’t really on my radar,” he continued. “But like...that is _exactly_ what I would want. With you. Just you, specifically.”

Fingon beamed, and Maedhros—it wasn’t fair, he thought frustratedly, that kissing was so romance-coded, because he wanted a way to express how happy he was and how much he loved Fingon in that moment.

“I want,” he tried instead, “to be...with you. For—a long time. Maybe forever. You’re my best friend, you always will be, but...I think...I want to be your partner, too. I just...can’t imagine a life without you. I want to...share your blanket, and your bed, and your heart—”

“And hopefully my brownies,” Fingon said, his voice a little wobbly.

Maedhros kissed his nose, and now it was Fingon’s turn to blush. “Of course the brownies,” he murmured.

“I want all those things too,” Fingon whispered. “And...I don’t know what’s up with me, sexuality and orientation-wise, but I know I want to figure it out with you.”

“I’d be willing to...try things,” Maedhros offered. “Like...kissing and stuff. I guess. I’ve never...well, you know. I’ve never done anything like that before. But if you wanted to, I would try it.”

“I don’t want to _make_ you,” Fingon began.

“No, I _want_ to,” Maedhros assured. “I mean. Not right now? And maybe not...everything. But it’s not _fair_ that allos get to kiss their partner to show just how much they love them, and I’m here floundering because I don’t know what to do to show you just how happy you’re making me right now.”

Fingon picked up the blanket, his _favorite_ blanket, and wrapped it around them both until they were pressed so close together that Maedhros forgot everything that wasn’t him.

“We’ll figure it out,” Finno whispered fiercely. “Me and you. In our QPR. Together. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Maedhros whispered back, and the words were sweeter on his tongue than a kiss (or a brownie) could ever be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your support <3 I have a few vague ideas for maybe something else in this verse...no promises, but keep an eye out, I guess!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, and please comment if you enjoyed!  
> You can find me on tumblr [@arofili](http://arofili.tumblr.com/).


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